


No Happy Ending

by Rachel500



Series: Different Decisions [2]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 06:43:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8239708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachel500/pseuds/Rachel500
Summary: Maybe Ziva doesn’t believe in a happy ending, but maybe she can believe in a new beginning.





	

**Author's Note:**

> AU. Spoilers for most seasons of NCIS 6-11. Includes major canon character deaths in that period. 
> 
> Continuing my writing exercise - while Too Many Shoes focused on a different decision Tony might have made, this one focuses on a different decision Ziva might have made.
> 
> Pairings: Tony/Ziva UST, Ziva/Rivkin, Ziva/OC. Mentions of Tim/Delilah. Team/Ziva friendship.

**No Happy Ending**

**(Only A New Beginning)**

He had left her.

Ziva stares blindly at the pictures on the shelf of her father's office. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her torso as though she needs to contain the tumult of emotions running through her.

Gibbs had left her.

She had made him choose and Leroy Jethro Gibbs had chosen Tony.

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.

Her partner.

No.

He was her betrayer.

Michael's murderer.

He had gone to her apartment and killed her lover.

He had…

_Tony lying on the ground; she has her gun pointed at him and knows he will let her shoot him…_

He had…

_Tony looking up at the camera; her father's knowledge and involvement is revealed…_

He had…

_Tony lying on the floor of her apartment badly injured, his pain-filled eyes meeting hers as she bursts in…_

She almost chokes as she hurriedly sucks in a breath.

Tony had done _nothing_.

He had gone to her apartment to protect her.

Michael had tried to kill him.

Tony had betrayed no-one.

He was her partner.

And Gibbs had been right to choose him.

Rule number one.

Ziva has screwed over her partner. She has demanded his removal from the team. She has put him on the ground. She has happily handed him over to Mossad; to her father's interrogation. She has lied to him about Michael. She has lied to Gibbs.

Because she loved Michael.

But she had loved a lie.

Michael had played her. Her father had played her.

The grief and anger she has carried since Michael's death drains away abruptly and leaves her exhausted. Shame flutters through her and she closes her eyes briefly.

"…and you are not listening to me." Her father's voice finally penetrates through the wall of her thoughts. The Hebrew almost sounds strange after so much time in America.

Ziva turns around to face him. "No," she responds in her native language, "I am not."

Her father leans back in his chair. He regards her with dark hooded eyes. He looks confident; at ease. Eli David has always looked that way to Ziva.

"As I was saying, there is an open position on Ben-Gidon's team."

"Michael's place." Ziva acknowledges tersely, understanding immediately where he was going with his comment.

"It would be a fitting return would it not?" Her father suggests. He resumes working, his attention back on the folder in front of him. "You assume his position; finish his work as I suggested before."

Perhaps a moment before she would have allowed her anger and grief to carry her; she would have shoved aside the knowledge of her father's machinations; Mossad's destruction of her home. She would have only focused on Gibb's desertion at the airport; Tony's part in Michael's death. She would have wanted to convince her father that she was still Mossad; that he had had no right to question her loyalty.

But this is not a moment before.

"You leave in two days. Report to Ben-Gidon tomorrow for your instructions." Her father orders briskly.

"No." Ziva said.

Her father's head snaps up; his eyes on hers like a laser. "No?"

"No." Ziva repeats. "I will not take Michael's place."

Her father's brow lowers and he tosses the pen he held on the desk. "You cannot refuse this, Ziva. This is not your NCIS where you can pick and choose what you wish to do…"

Her father clearly has never worked with Gibbs, Ziva thinks a touch hysterically.

"This is Mossad. This is your assignment." His eyes glares at her angrily. "You will take it."

"I am resigning from Mossad." She hasn't meant to say it but Ziva almost staggers under the overwhelming sense of relief which accompanies her declaration.

Her father gets to his feet. He seems to realise he'd taken the wrong tack because his stern expression gives way to a sympathetic pity as he grasps her shoulders.

"Ziva, you are upset about Michael." He sighs. "Perhaps you are right and this is not the right mission, not at this time. Take some leave. We will discuss your next assignment when you return." He drops a kiss on her head and leaves his office.

Ziva waits a moment alone.

Her father might not want to accept her resignation but he will have no choice. She can no longer stay.

o-O-o

Ziva spends just enough time to write out her resignation, grab a go-bag from a locker at a gym across the street from her old apartment and head to the airport where she takes the first flight out. She doesn't care where she's going. She ends up in Greece. She immediately hires a car using a fake ID and leaves for Switzerland.

She sticks to the coastline. She barely stops. Just enough to rest; just enough so she can continue. She pays in cash.

The drive is long and she spends the time thinking.

She thinks about the past year with Michael. She examines every interaction; every exchange. She wonders whether Michael was with her because of her father's orders; whether any of it was real. She feels used.

She feels shamed.

She's angry at Michael now. They had been friends for years. She had thought she had his loyalty. She had thought he truly cared for her. She has been an idiot.

It is not an admission she wants to admit to anyone; not even to herself.

She's furious with her father. He has been the grand architect of what had happened. He had contrived her partnership with Michael when she had returned to Mossad after Jenny's death. He had sent Michael to track down the terror cell. He had placed her in the position of providing Michael with intelligence about NCIS. He had forced her to lie to Gibbs.

But then her father had been forcing her to lie to Gibbs for years.

Ari.

Ziva had been given orders to kill him. She had been unable to carry them out. She hadn't believed her father when he had told her Ari was likely rogue; had betrayed them. She had gone to the States to bring him home; to bring him back to their family. Ari had played her right up to the moment she had heard him confess his crimes and his hatred in Gibbs's basement; the moment before she had shot him to save Gibbs.

Killing her brother had never been about an order for her, but if Gibbs had known…

Ziva shakes away the thought.

Her father is to blame.

For Ari.

For Michael.

For Ziva's lies.

She can see in perfect hindsight that her father has been testing her; testing her loyalty. Because she had loved being at NCIS. She had loved being a part of her team.

NCIS.

She will always owe Jenny Shepard a debt of gratitude for offering her a liaison position. She had barely been able to live with herself after Ari. Jenny had given her a lifeline.

Gibbs had been her lifeline.

He had accepted her into the team. He had given her a place to heal, to become something more than a weapon for Mossad, for her father. He had taught her his rules.

And she has thrown that back in his face.

He had been right to leave her.

She should never have suggested…she shies away from thinking about Tony.

It's soon to think about him.

Instead she thinks about McGee. She thinks about the way he welcomed her to the team; offering up information and support without ever expecting anything back. He is a good man, Timothy McGee. Brilliant, smart, and lacking in the artifice that is second nature for Ziva; for Tony…

She thinks about Abby. She thinks about the way Abby resented her arrival; bristling like an angry cat every time Ziva tried to get close, until one day they were simply friends. Her sister Tali would have loved her. Abigail Scuito is bubbly and effervescent and fun like Tony…

She thinks about Ducky. Donald Mallard was a comforting stalwart. He reminded her of Schmeil. So wise and old and full of stories. He had an old world charm; a solid moral compass which never seems to be wrong. She thinks about what he will say about what she did to Tony and…

She thinks about Palmer. Geeky and awkward Jimmy Palmer who has hidden depths; who had tried to be her friend despite her initial contempt for his position; for his character. Just like Tony…

God.

Why can she not stop thinking about Tony?

Because she has been wrong about him, Ziva tells herself even as she hits the steering wheel in a fit of anger. Because she had been wrong about him from the start.

Tony had not trusted her.

Not when she had turned up to help Ari.

He had not trusted her when she had joined the team.

He had accepted that Gibbs had accepted her onto the team but he had not trusted her. But even as he had asserted his own authority within the team – something she had made certain to challenge because the information she had compiled for Ari had suggested he wasn't anything special (a rich dumb jock playing at cops and robbers; a little boy who would not grow up; a commitment phobe) – he had protected her anyway.

She did not need protection then.

She does not need protection now!

Ziva slams her hand against the steering wheel again.

She is not ready to think about Tony.

But her thoughts drift back to him anyway and one thought in particular; Tony has always protected her.

o-O-o

The safe deposit box is one of several Ziva has around the world. She picks up the diamonds within it, the false identifications, weapons and cash. She drops the hire car back at the airport, takes a bus to downtown Geneva and buys a rail ticket for Paris.

She gets out at Marseilles, rents a room in a quaint back street hotel and sleeps.

When she wakes, she showers and changes into clean non-descript clothes; jeans, a top, a thin coat. She braids her hair, adds sunglasses to her disguise and heads out.

She buys a scooter and leaves Marseilles.

She rides without a destination in mind just continuing along the coastline. When it gets dark she stops she's in a coastal town near the Spanish border, Argeles-sur-Mer. She rents a hotel room for a week and hides among the tourists.

Ziva tries not to think.

For two days she drowns her thoughts in mojitos in the local bars; spends hours sleeping off the resultant hangovers. She doesn't want to think about Michael and the mess she's made of her past. She doesn't want to dwell on her father and their broken relationship. She doesn't want to consider what she's going to do, where she will go; the future.

On the third night, Ziva allows a slightly bumbling English tourist to pick her up. He has dark hair and eyes. He takes her back to his hotel room and she thinks sex can blank her mind instead of alcohol. But when he touches her she thinks of Michael. She pretends as she strips for him; kisses him. She pretends as she takes him to bed and uses him until she hums with pleasure and sated lassitude.

She leaves his bed before the break of the day, walking back to her own hotel with her body aching. She stumbles into her shower and stays there with the hot water beating down on her. She scrubs her skin wanting to wash away the past as easily as the evidence of her night's activities.

When she wipes away the steam in the bathroom mirror, she sees herself staring back; she is pale, shadows under her eyes, broken.

No.

She will not be broken.

Not by _this._

She throws a bottle into the mirror and it smashes.

o-O-o

Paris has always been a favourite city.

Ziva finds a small hotel in the cobbled back streets near to Notre Dame.

As she settles into a hard wooden chair on the pavement of a street café, the Eiffel tower in the skyline to her left, she feels peaceful for the first time since…for a long while.

Perhaps since she had returned to Israel following Jenny's death and Leon Vance's attempt to discover the mole within NCIS.

She misses Jenny.

Being in Europe, back in Paris, she misses her more. They'd spent weeks together, working side by side on intelligence operations as part of a wider Interpol mission. She and Jenny had been friends. They'd drank wine together and shared past romantic entanglements. They'd practiced hand-to-hand together; gone to the firing range. They'd saved each other's lives.

Her relationship with Jenny had changed over the years they'd worked together.

Jenny had been the Director. It created a distance between them.

And then there had been Jenny's tension with Gibbs. Ziva had slowly changed her allegiance, sliding from supporting Jenny, to appreciating Gibbs's frustration with Jenny's interference, and finally to silently disapproving of her friend's actions and decisions; Le Grenouille, the way she had died.

Jenny's actions had hurt Ziva's team; hurt the people Ziva cares, _cared_ about. (But she can't quite convince herself she doesn't care for them still).

Ziva sits and watches the people flow by. She remembers Jenny as she was in Europe; a fiercely passionate and intelligent woman; an extremely capable and competent agent; a mentor; her friend.

She wishes she had her friend with her now.

What would Jenny have made of all of this, Ziva wonders.

As the Director she would have hated Ziva's duplicity; at informing Mossad of NCIS operations; of omitting vital information when asked directly by Gibbs. She would have considered it as much a personal betrayal as Gibbs no doubt will do if the extent of her involvement ever comes to light; as Tony does anyway without truly knowing.

Rule number one.

She thinks as her friend Jenny might have sympathised at the position Ziva had been placed within; between a rock and a hard place. She would have been sympathetic to Ziva falling for Michael; being played.

She thinks Jenny would have berated Ziva for not trusting Tony's account of events. Jenny had trusted Tony. She had used him, yes. But Jenny had trusted Tony.

Ziva sips her coffee and eats her croissant.

She misses her friend.

For a long moment, Ziva wonders whether she's thinking about Jenny or Tony.

o-O-o

Ziva spends June in Paris but July finds her in England.

The country with its wide range of different multicultural cities is a good place to hide but it is also a good place to meet an old friend.

Schmeil Pinkhas greets her at the rail terminal with a wide smile. He'd lived on the first floor of their apartment building in Tel Aviv, and had become an honorary grandfather to all the children. Ziva cannot remember a time of her life when she did not know Schmeil.

Schmeil takes her to a small house in Oxford where he is spending time as a visiting lecturer. The university is free of students and its empty halls and libraries echo with silence and are filled with swirling dust motes.

One night, Ziva wakes up from a nightmare; the memory of that final night in the States; of the desperate drive home; the shadows fighting; her fear as she raced up to her apartment…the sight of Michael and Tony on the floor…she dreams she shoots when she places her gun against Tony's chest…

Ziva wakes up gasping for air.

She wanders down to the small lounge. She curls up in one of the chairs.

Schmeil finds her there.

"I thought I heard a noise." He explains and goes to make tea.

They sit in silence.

Ziva is wrapped up in a towelling robe, hands holding the delicate china carefully.

Schmeil wears an old-fashioned flannel affair, tightly belted over pyjamas. Somehow Ziva finds herself telling him everything; the whole sordid mess.

"Your father…" Schmeil begins with a sigh, "he does love you, Ziva."

"He loves something he thinks he owns." Ziva says tersely.

"There is a story of a man who wished nothing more than for his son to assume his place when he retired." Schmeil says.

Ziva holds her tongue. She will not disrespect Schmeil with angry words.

"But his son did not want to become his father." Schmeil continued. "The father suspected the son's wishes and pushed all the harder for the son to join him, until one day he pushed too far and pushed him away completely." His fingers stroked the fine china of the tea cup he held. "The father in trying to keep his son close, only brought to fruition his fears sooner."

Ziva thinks about Schmeil's story; of her father's words to her before they had gone to the airport that final day. "You think my father feared losing me."

"You have spoken of nothing in your correspondence but your team and this man Gibbs for many months, Ziva." Schmeil says gently.

"And so he tested me?!" Still weeks later she feels the burn of her outrage.

"And so he pushed you to choose." Schmeil points out.

"And I chose Mossad!" Ziva lurches to her feet and paces. "I chose Michael!" She stops in front of the fireplace and stares blindly at the bars of the heater. "I chose a lie!"

"Michael is not here to say whether it was or not." Schmeil states firmly.

"My father arranged for Michael and I to be together; he paired us." Ziva retorts. "He set me up!"

"Like many parents have tried to do with their children." Schmeil points out. "I am sure while your father feared losing your affection to another father figure, perhaps beyond that he feared losing you more permanently to a romantic entanglement between yourself and your American young man."

"Tony is not my young man!" Ziva denies immediately.

Schmeil ignores her. "And so he finds a young Israeli man, one whom of which he approves and who he knows you have a connection with, and…" he gestures, "as you say; sets you up."

Ziva's not entirely convinced her father's motives were so benign.

"The question is what do you wish to do now." Schmeil concludes.

"I do not know." Ziva says, wrapping her arms around herself. "This was my push too far."

Yes.

Her father has pushed her too far this time.

She had once dreamed of a different life.

Perhaps it is not too late for her to seek that.

She will not be her father's daughter any longer.

It is time to leave her past behind her.

o-O-o

In August, Ziva sits on the edge of the bath in the small bathroom of the apartment she has rented in London. There is an over-the-counter pregnancy test clutched in her hand and she stares at the blue line.

One visit to a doctor later and the result is confirmed.

She strips and examines her body in a floor length mirror. There is no sign of the baby. Her stomach remains flat; her breasts small; her frame is almost boyish except for the curve of her hip; the slim length of her leg.

The tourist she slept in France is the only option for the father.

She has always used protection with every other man she has taken to her bed.

She rests a hand over her lower abdomen. She is barely pregnant.

Ziva pulls on a robe and curls up on top of the bed.

She has options.

She places a hand over her abdomen again. The small life that is dwelling inside of her is nothing more than a collection of cells. She could make the arrangements and…

No.

She is done with taking lives.

And she will definitely not take this one.

Her child.

She could track the father down but she will not.

She will raise her child on her own. She is more than capable. Still, Ziva considers tiredly, it is well she does not need to work. Her funds are healthy. She just needs to decide where to go.

Briefly she thinks about returning to Israel. It is familiar to her; comfortable. But she fears raising a child in the shadow of her father. Tali had died too young. Ari had been twisted into someone she had not recognised. And she…

Ziva knows she is damaged.

For a moment there is longing to return to the States.

Gibbs would help her. She knows he would not turn her away, especially with the baby.

But returning would mean facing the mess she has made there.

(Facing Tony.)

She will stay in England, Ziva determines. She is close to Schmeil. England has good medical care. And her baby's father was British even if she has no intention of ever finding him.

Her decision is made.

o-O-o

There is a park around the corner from the house she has bought in Oxford. With her news Schmeil has insisted she move closer to him. She had resisted for a month but she craves the familiarity and comfort of her old friend.

It is a good house; two-up, two-down. She has painted the nursery a calm sea-green.

Ziva goes every day to sit by the pond. There are a family of ducks. Ziva envies them the simplicity of their lives and feeds them stale bread.

One day someone else is sitting on the bench.

A familiar Very Special Agent.

Ziva casts a frantic glance around the park, concerned that Gibbs might also be there. The park is empty.

Tony has come alone. Of all the people to find her…

Tony lifts his head from the newspaper he's pretending to read and meets her eyes. He's acknowledging she's seen him and giving her the opportunity to walk away.

For a long moment she considers turning around, but she has never been a coward and she's had a lot of time to think over the past months. She owes him a conversation. She continues to the bench, grateful that the layers of clothing she wears hide her condition. She sits down on the bench keeping a good distance between them.

"Why are you here?" Ziva asks brusquely.

"Would you believe me if I said I was just in the neighbourhood?" Tony responds.

She glances at him.

He's done something to his hair; it's slightly longer in front; parted differently. It's just enough of a change to startle her into a closer look. He's wrapped up for the British weather; heavy grey wool overcoat buttoned up and a cashmere scarf. His trousers are a wool blend in a darker grey; his boots sturdy but fashionable. He looks the epitome of a well-dressed gentleman. But she sees the faint tan on his skin; lines of differentiation between dark and light skin that suggest he didn't take care enough not to be burnt; his lips are still chapped – they faintly glisten with the hint of a chap-stick. Her gaze lands on the hint of a bruise around his eye; across his cheekbone as though someone has recently hit him. He holds himself carefully as though in pain. He shifts to fold the newspaper and his sleeve rides up to reveal more bruising around a wrist as though he has been restrained.

She wonders if he is alright but cannot bring herself to ask.

"You look terrible." Ziva says instead.

Tony huffs out a breath. "Thank you." He says, the sarcasm a thin careful line in his voice. "Last mission didn't quite turn out how we expected."

Ziva waits for him to say something else, to fill in the details with his usual babble of a movie reference, but he doesn't. She sighs. " _Why_ are you here, Tony?"

He sighs. "We went looking in the wrong place and there was this whole thing with a goat which you don't really need to know about, but anyway; once I knew where you weren't, I figured out where you were."

"You?" It explodes from her lips without thought and she inwardly winces at the way Tony freezes at the implied criticism that he couldn't possibly have found her himself.

Tony takes a breath and she can see his struggle before he says; "You're welcome."

"You should have left me alone." She snaps out, feeling guilty.

Tony looks her dead in the eye. "Get over yourself. Me, I get, but do you really think so little of everyone else that you don't think we worried at all?"

Ziva flushes with shame. She knows better. She thinks about the emails Abby, Ducky and McGee have sent and which she has ignored. "I do not deserve your worry."

Tony just looks back at her.

She gives into the steady gaze. "I needed to get away from everything." _Her father._

Tony nods slowly. And she thinks he understands because she knows he has Daddy issues of his own. "You could come home."

Ziva stays silent, unsure what to say.

"If you're worried about Gibbs, don't be." Tony says eventually. "He pretty much gave me the wink when I said I was taking my sick leave so – and seriously you should see this thing he and Vance have going on – really creepy but…"

"Tony." Ziva cuts him off sharply. "It is pointless discussing this," she says before Tony can argue, "I am remaining in England." She takes a breath, her mouth suddenly dry. "I am pregnant."

She sees the conclusion he jumps to before he gives voice to it.

"The father is British." She adds quickly. She does not want him to ever think her child is connected to Michael. But she also knows exactly the implication she has made about her relationship with the father of her child by not explaining; Tony will think that the father is still with her, that there is a relationship.

Tony's gaze flits to her belly and up to her eyes. He looks stunned and bizarrely resigned. "Congratulations?"

"Thank you."

Tony's hand clenches around the newspaper he holds. "Well." He says with a short laugh. "I guess we're all caught up and…" he makes a small movement as though to leave.

"Wait!" Ziva says urgently.

He looks at her startled.

"Please."

Tony settles back against the bench.

Ziva tries to gather her thoughts. "I am uncertain what to say." She confesses. She has thought long and hard over the past few months and her apology needs to be made. Tony deserves at least that much from her.

He continues to look at her sombrely, waiting.

She wets her lips. "When everything happened…with Michael," she begins, "I was…I forgot something important." She darts a glance at him.

"Something important." Tony repeats.

"I forgot who had my back." Ziva says, holding his eyes with her own. "Who has always had my back."

Relief flickers through his expressive eyes; he's quick to hide it just as he is quick to always hide his true self.

"You were trying to protect me." Ziva concludes. "I could argue I do not need protection but…your instincts about Michael were right and I…I was wrong to forget; to deny what I knew to be true."

"Why did you?" asks Tony gently.

"Ari." Ziva looks away. She still can't talk about her brother with Tony with equanimity. Ari had killed Tony's former partner and friend. "I trusted Ari; I trusted Michael; I trusted my father." She shakes her head. "I could not afford to trust you."

Tony's hand slides over hers. A warm touch which surprises her into looking at him again.

"I am sorry, Ziva." He says.

"No," she says, turning her hand so she can hold his and squeeze it gently, "no. It is I who should apologise."

They sit in a perfect silence for a long while, just holding hands.

Tony's cell rings out suddenly. He gives an apologetic glance but digs into his pocket and answers the call. "Understood, Probie." He says in response to McGee who has to be the caller given the nickname. "I'll be there." He pockets the phone and grimaces. "So much for sick leave."

Ziva nods. "Tell Gibbs…" her voice fails her.

Tony chuffs her under the chin with a single finger. "Call him." He says. He gives a sad smile. "Call the others too; they miss you."

She nods jerkily, holding back the tears she feels pressing at the back of her eyes.

Tony doesn't move. "I should leave." He lifts her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles.

Ziva shivers. There had always been the possibility of more for them. But they've danced around it; pretended not to be jealous when others enter the picture; let Gibbs's rule and their own fears determine their course. She doesn't think they'll ever find their way back to each other after what has happened.

Tony smiles a bittersweet smile as though he has read her mind. "I'll always have your back, Ziva." He shakes his head. "This is hard." He says quietly and walks away.

Ziva watches until he disappears from the park before she allows a tear to fall.

o-O-o

Abby yells at her for a whole ten minutes. She tells Ziva she is an idiot for ever not trusting Tony. Ziva tells her of the baby and is surprised Tony hasn't shared the news.

Ducky talks to her of the pregnancy and she is comforted by his reassurance that all seems well.

McGee accepts her quiet apology and emails her links to motherhood websites.

Jimmy returns her email with a chatty update of the team's shenanigans since she has left although she is certain the story about the koala was him pulling a prank.

She and Tony tentatively begin a movie-watching club via email. He teases her remotely about craving ice-cream and tomato ketchup.

She calls Gibbs. They have a difficult conversation because of what happened with Michael and the ultimatum she gave Gibbs in Israel, because he knows now about her orders and Ari. It hurts to speak of it but she does because she has never wanted to lose his regard. But they find the words to talk to each other and she knows she is forgiven when the handcrafted cradle is delivered to her home a month later.

o-O-o

The opera house is full as Ziva takes her place for her annual tradition to honour Tali's birthday. The crescendo of the music fills her up; lifts her. She walks out feeling peaceful until she catches sight of the man waiting by her car. She can see his detail standing discreetly by a limo parked across the lot.

"Abba." Ziva greets him and is grateful once again that the British weather means her form is swamped in an oversized coat.

Her father pushes off the car and kisses her cheeks; his dark eyes examine her face. She lets him talk her into the limo to talk.

They sit on opposite sides of the car.

"I have been patient, but it is time for you to return home, Ziva." Her father says without preamble.

Ziva gives a short flat laugh. "I resigned."

"I did not accept your resignation." He returns.

Of course he hadn't.

Ziva remembers how Tony had taunted her father with whether he was asking questions as the Director of Mossad or her father.

"It is not your decision." Ziva says.

"I am your father…" he begins.

"Yes, my father!" Ziva interrupts sharply. "I resigned. As the Director of Mossad you must accept my resignation. I will not return. Not for you; not for anything. I am done!"

Her father stares at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. He turns away and adjusts his scarf. "Ziva…" he sighs. "If you wish to return to NCIS…I will not stop you."

"You have made that impossible." _She_ had made it impossible but Ziva is willing to apportion some of the blame to him.

"Two months ago," her father states in a non-sequitur which has her blinking in confusion, "NCIS infiltrated a camp in Somalia. They eliminated Saleem Ulman."

Ziva's heart pounds in her chest. She remembers Tony's tan; the lines of stress and pain.

" _Last mission didn't quite turn out how we expected."_

His words echo in her ears.

"The operation was led by Special Agent DiNozzo although the kill shot was provided by Agent Gibbs." Her father continues. "They returned to the United States with minimal injuries." He pauses. "And with Officer Liat Tuvia. They rescued her."

Ziva stares at him. The questions tremble on her lips but she won't ask them.

"Liat replaced Michael." Her father confirms. "She was sent to eliminate Saleem. Instead he captured her. We believed she had been killed months ago."

"Did they know?" She speaks before she can prevent herself. "Did NCIS know?"

"That a female Israeli officer had been seen in the area, yes." Her father nods slowly. "I did not confirm or deny it to Leon when he asked."

"Then…"

"They went to avenge you." Her father raises his eyebrows. "So…I believe they will welcome your return as Liaison Officer."

Ziva breathes out slowly. It seems unthinkable but her father clearly doesn't know about her pregnancy. "Even if that was true," she says, ignoring the truth that her friends had thought her dead; had led a mission of vengeance for her, "I cannot go back and my resignation stands."

"Ziva…"

"I am pregnant." Ziva tells him baldly, and a brief movement brings her coat taut against her belly.

Her father stares at her for a long moment. His eyes drop to the curve of her body. His eyes fly back to her. "Michael…"

"Is not the father."

His brow lowers. "DiNozzo."

She laughs almost hysterical. "You think I would sleep with two men at the same time?!"

"It would explain DiNozzo's actions." Her father says defensively.

"He was my partner! He wanted to protect me from the unstable man _you_ set me up with!" Ziva snarls, defending Tony.

Her father raises both hands. "Peace, Ziva."

Ziva takes another deep breath. "Accept my resignation. I am done with Mossad." She shoves the door open, climbs out as gracefully as she can and walks away to her own car.

He does not follow her as she drives away.

o-O-o

Her son is born early.

Ishmael Jethro David comes screaming into the world on the last day of a frigidly cold January.

Ziva's world shatters and reforms around him.

She knows with a certainty that is bone deep that she will kill to keep him safe.

o-O-o

A year passes almost unnoticed by Ziva.

Her focus is on her child as he grows strong and sturdy; as his baby smiles light up her existence.

She drifts away again from her former friends. Oh, they still exchange emails but more sporadically; talk less often than before. It's natural, Ziva tells herself.

And is needed.

Tony warns her about the Reynosa family and their vendetta against Gibbs. Ziva waits for word to come of the all clear before she relaxes.

She does not contact her father. She is done with him as she is done with Mossad. He sends a birthday gift for her and for Ishmael but he leaves them alone.

It is needed.

She hears from Abby how her father was almost blown to bits in an attempt to find a traitor within NCIS.

She remains vigilant and on guard. She knows there is still a risk someone will try to use her and her son to leverage the Director of Mossad.

Perhaps Ziva is less surprised than she should be that when Schmeil gets an opportunity to work in Australia in the New Year, she packs up Ishmael and follows him.

o-O-o

Ziva meets Alex at the staff party to welcome them back to the university. She has worked there almost six months since her assisting Schmeil with some translations caught the attention of one of the Professors. The work is varied – sometimes she will help translate historical documents; sometimes assist a student or a visiting lecturer. It is interesting and allows her to accommodate Ishmael's care alongside some form of employment.

Alex is a former Doctor in the Royal Australian Navy; he has blond shaggy hair and piercing blue eyes. He's lean and fit; a good twenty years older than she is. He's starting as the new Professor of Medicine. Ziva is charmed by him. She believes many students will have their heart broken.

They begin as friends. It has been a long time since she has allowed herself a friend.

She confides in Alex. She tells him of Ari, of Gibbs and her team. She tells him of what happened with Michael; of how she had treated Tony. She's barely in touch with them all now. Apart from the time difference, she had retreated when she had moved. He encourages her to reach out again.

She reaches out to Abby.

"Of course I knew where you were," Abby tells her blithely, "but Gibbs said to wait and – oh my God, you don't know! Tony got another super-secret assignment! Cade died…"

Ziva wonders who Cade was.

"…and Tony's girlfriend – well, friend with benefit? Maybe? I don't know exactly but Tony really liked her…"

"Abby." Ziva interrupts her.

"She disappeared! Tony got shot and got amnesia! Not like Gibbs just a night and then Kate's sister managed to, I don't know, use some psychology whammy thing to prompt his memory back. He's fine now."

And so he is.

They tentatively begin their email movie club again; somehow it expands to include the rest of the team – even Gibbs occasionally.

Somehow Alex becomes her movie buddy and gets tangled into the emails. The team scoop him up into their banter with an acceptance that Ziva can barely believe but appreciates nonetheless.

At New Year, Abby pointedly asks Ziva about her feelings for Alex and Ziva deflects; she's not ready for a relationship and she has Ishmael to consider. They catch-up on other news; Gibbs had delivered a baby in the back of a car apparently on Christmas Eve, McGee has a kick-ass grandmother, and Tony almost had Christmas dinner with his ex-fiancée.

That night when Alex reaches over to grab the remote to start the movie, Ziva kisses him. He kisses back.

It is different.

It is not the all consuming passion she had with Michael.

It is not the complicated attraction she has with Tony.

It's quieter.

Steady.

Safe.

He loves Ishmael. He reads him stories, tucks him into bed. He becomes Ishmael's father; teaching him and loving him.

He loves her. He cooks her dinner, holds her in the night. He becomes her partner, her confidante; caring for her, loving her.

They become Ziva and Alex.

They attend parties together; double date with Alex's best mate Tom and his boyfriend. She has dinner with his mother and father; is teased by Alex's sister and brother.

Alex reaches out to her friends; he talks science with Abby, geek games with McGee, and movies with Tony. He even exchanges a few emails with Gibbs on naval history.

He becomes woven into the tapestry of her life as though he has always been there.

When Alex proposes, Ziva says yes.

o-O-o

It's the day of the wedding.

Ziva sits in a small ante-chamber to the city hall room where they will be married. She wears a simple Forties' style cream dress; lace over satin; a tight bodice with a full skirt that falls to mid-calf. White satin high heel sandals adorn her feet. She has a lace shawl; her hair is styled in an up-do with tendrils falling to soften her face. There is a small posy of white roses waiting on the table beside her.

Ziva has shooed everyone out to have a moment to herself. Her phone is secreted into the matching satin clutch purse which is also where she has secreted another weapon in addition to the gun strapped to her thigh. She takes the phone out and without hesitating calls the one person she knows she shouldn't.

"DiNozzo." Tony replies grumpily – and she suddenly remembers the time difference.

"Tony…" Ziva says apologetically. "I am sorry. I forgot you would be sleeping."

"Ziva?" She can hear the faint rustle of blankets, of a light being switched on. "Are you…aren't you supposed to be getting married about now?"

"Yes." Ziva says. And her throat closes up on the rest.

There is a moment of silence.

"Cold feet?" Tony asks lightly but with a serious undernote.

"My feet are warm." Ziva retorts, unwilling to admit it's true.

"Then what's the problem?" asks Tony.

"There is no problem." Ziva snaps back. Because she feels guilty for calling him; for talking to him about Alex; for burdening him with her sudden hesitation…given everything that is between them – or rather everything that is not between them.

Tony gets it though and breathes her name. "Ziva."

The wealth of understanding in his voice is almost more than she can bear.

"How can I trust him?" She asks.

"He's not Ari." Tony replies almost gently. "He's not Michael."

She closes her eyes.

"And he's not your father." Tony continues.

She can't reply. Her father is waiting for her outside. He had flown in unexpectedly that morning to surprise her. He's the same as ever; arrogant and so certain of his own righteousness she almost chokes on it.

"Marriage…" Tony says, "marriage is a leap of faith. Sometimes you just have to jump in with both feet."

Ziva opens her eyes again. "You have never jumped."

"You have to have someone who wants to jump with you." Tony remarks in an over-bright voice and she wonders again what happened with his ex. It makes her heart ache a little for him because Tony deserves to be loved. "Look, Ziva, if it makes you feel better, the background check came back clean…"

"You did a background check on him?" She interrupts sharply.

"Me? Nooo!" Tony denies without too much sincerity.

"Did you give him the fork talk too?" She asks brusquely, torn between annoyance and some small warmth of affection that he cares enough to protect her still.

"Shovel, Ziva," Tony corrects her, "and no."

That is sincere and she breathes a sigh of relief.

"Abby won the right to be the one to do the shovel talk." Tony continues blithely. "Do you know how fierce our little forensic Goth is at Rock, Paper, Scissors? I tell you she took McGee down hard and then…"

"Tony." Ziva snaps again.

"My point," Tony says as though he wasn't interrupted, "is that Alex…well, Alex is ready to jump with you."

"And if I am not ready to jump?" asks Ziva quietly.

"Then, don't." Tony says.

There is another moment of silence.

She thinks of all the blood on her hands; all the pain she has caused in the past. Does she really deserve her own happiness?

"You deserve to be happy, Ziva." Tony says finally as though he has heard her unasked question echoing across the distance between them.

"So do you." Ziva says softly.

Tony hums a bittersweet laugh. Her heart aches again for him. She wonders again if there had ever been a chance for them. She wonders if he is thinking the same thing. She clutches the phone tightly.

She has Alex now, she reminds herself; Alex who loves her and cares for her; who is Ishmael's father in every way that matters. But she still needs reassurance…

"You'll have my back." Ziva states.

"Always." Tony replies.

"I want to jump, Tony." Ziva says finally.

"Right." Tony says brightly. "Good. Well, he's a lucky guy." If his tone is a little tense, a little off, she ignores it, unwilling to admit that she's been unfair to call him.

"Thank you, Tony." Ziva says.

"You're welcome." Tony replies.

She disconnects the call. She switches the phone off and puts it in her bag. She picks up the posy of flowers and walks out to make her leap of faith.

o-O-o

Marriage is the security Ziva never knew she was missing.

She thinks she might even be happy.

o-O-o

They've been married for six months when Alex is invited to lecture at Georgetown University of Medicine.

Ziva is uncertain at returning to the States but it is a prestigious invitation and Alex deserves the honour.

They book into a hotel refusing the kind offers from Gibbs, Ducky and Abby. They arrange a dinner at Gibbs's house though to see everyone once the lecture is done and before they are due to return.

Ziva enjoys being back in the States. While Alex works, she drops by the Navy Yard. Nothing much has changed. There are the same orange walls; the same desk formations.

Liat Tuvia sits at the desk she once occupied. Ziva greets her coolly but politely; Liat returns the greeting with the same demeanour. McGee and Tony are missing; they are in the field tracking down the possessions of a journalist found dead dressed in a Navy uniform that morning.

Abby squeals when she sees Ishmael. Ziva's son is almost three years old. He is a sturdy toddler with a head of dark curls, and mischievous eyes and smile. He beams at Abby.

He goes quiet when Gibbs approaches but he stretches out his arms demandingly and Gibbs obliges him with a cuddle. Abby snaps a picture with her phone and plasters a too-innocent look on her face when Gibbs glances over at her.

Ziva points at the monitor. "Your latest case?"

"Yeah." Gibbs replies. "You want to stick around and help?"

Liat looks positively murderous at the suggestion.

Ziva shakes her head. "Ishmael and I are going sight-seeing."

Gibbs hands over her son and chucks him under the chin. "Take care of your Mom."

With a final hug from Abby, Ziva makes her way out. She spends the day happily showing Ishmael the sights before ending the day back at the hotel. They order room service and Alex goes to put Ishmael to bed.

Ziva answers the knock on the door thinking it will be their dinner.

It is.

But it is being delivered by her father.

She ushers him in before demanding to know why he is there.

"I came to visit you and my grandson." Her father says warmly.

Alex comes out of the bedroom and a quick glance between them gives him the state of play. They acquiesce to dinner. They sit down together and her father spins a tale of retirement and redemption as they eat.

He leaves soon after.

Ziva waits five minutes and calls Gibbs.

The next day, her father returns and they take Ishmael to the park. When they return to the hotel, Gibbs and Vance are waiting for them. Ziva finds herself in a hotel room discovering her father is trying to keep peace with Iran; trying to hold onto his position.

An informal dinner between Vance and her father is arranged for that night to cover their continued politicking; her father insists she and Alex attend. Gibbs offers to take Ishmael. How can she not help him when his cause is so noble? She agrees, hoping her father for once is being as honourable as he appears.

Five hours later she sits in a room in a hospital, her white shirt drenched in blood. Gibbs hovers behind her; a steady sentinel. Abby is with Ishmael, he tells her; McGee is also there providing her son with protection. Tony is a silent presence beside Ziva; a bulwark she dare not lean against.

Her father is with Ducky; just another body to give up its secrets to the NCIS medical examiner.

Ziva waits to see if Alex will live.

He does not.

o-O-o

Her life blurs.

Tony takes her and Ishmael to his home and brings Schmeil to her.

She wakes from a nightmare to find Tony asleep in the chair next to her; Ishmael sacked out on his chest as though he belongs there.

Jackie comes by; Vance's wife escaped with a bullet graze and a banged head. She offers her condolences.

Ziva can hardly bear to hear them.

She blames herself.

It was foolish to think anything good could come from being closer to her father even for one night.

She has lost everyone she has loved.

Everyone but Ishmael.

Ziva takes Alex back to Australia; back to his heartbroken family who don't understand why Alex is dead. Their grief adds to her guilt.

She cannot see through her pain.

Her only comfort is her son.

She receives word her father has been taken to Israel for burial. Gibbs calls her; they think Ilan Bodnar, her father's second-in-command is responsible. There is something about money…she pays no attention.

She goes back to the synagogue.

She asks God why; why must she lose everyone? When so much has been taken from her, how is she to believe in him? She asks him to give her a sign of hope.

There is a noise; the door behind her opens…

She spins around.

Schmeil stands there with Ishmael.

Her world snaps back into focus.

o-O-o

Ziva goes home to Israel.

She pays her respects to her father. She reclaims the family farm with its olive groves and wonders if she can raise Ishmael there.

She begins to investigate Ilan Bodnar.

She and Ilan had always had a difficult relationship. Ilan had thought himself as a son to Eli David and Eli had done nothing to stop him. A part of Ziva knows her father simply took advantage of Ilan's own Daddy issues, but the child she was still considers Ilan an interloper in their family.

Ziva hears about Ilan's worsening relationship with her father; the rumours that Ilan himself was at the centre of the conspiracy to roust her father from his position. She hears about heated arguments in loud voices; of threats.

She gets her hands on the investigation notes.

Orli Elbaz turns up four days later.

Ziva reluctantly allows the older woman inside. They sit at the worn kitchen table with mugs of tea.

If she and Ilan have had a difficult relationship, Ziva's relationship with Orli is best described as tumultuous. Orli and her father had had an affair which had broken the heart of Ziva's mother. Orli had taken her father from their home. Orli had left her father a few years later, after achieving a senior position in Mossad. Ziva has always viewed Orli with contempt; as a woman who has used her father's weakness to gain a better position for herself, yet…as Ziva sits opposite her and notes the heartbreak in Orli's eyes, she realises the older woman truly did love her father.

"You should leave Ilan to us." Orli says.

"Us?" drawls Ziva.

"Mossad." Orli confirms. "I am the new Director."

"Congratulations." Ziva says dryly.

"We are all looking for Ilan." Orli repeats. "He will not get away with this."

Ziva stands up abruptly. "Is it not my right to seek vengeance after what he has taken from me?"

"Of course it is," Orli says, "but you have a son to think about now. Let us be your hand in this."

Ziva almost flinches at the mention of Ishmael. She gets up and walks away from Orli. She paces to the window and stares out at the olive grove. She wants to go after Ilan; wants to see his face when he sees her; wants to know why he had betrayed her.

But Ishmael…

Her son is everything.

"You will let me know when it is done?" asks Ziva.

Orli stands and Ziva turns to face her.

"You have my promise." Orli says.

She leaves soon after.

Ziva wanders through to the study. Ishmael plays with his toys in the centre of the room on a large woven rug which has been in her family for generations. She leans on the door jamb and watches him.

o-O-o

She tries to let it go.

She watches Ishmael and tries to think of nothing but him.

But at night her mind whirls with memories of Alex, of her father.

She thinks of Ilan.

She tosses and turns.

The next day Ziva gets up.

She feeds and clothes her son.

She plays with him.

She tries to let it go.

She watches Ishmael and tries to think of nothing else.

But at night her mind whirls with memories of Alex, of her father.

She thinks of Ilan.

She tosses and turns.

The next day Ziva gets up.

She feeds and clothes her son.

She plays with him.

She tries to let it go.

o-O-o

She stops trying.

She starts planning.

o-O-o

If Gibbs is shocked to see Ziva when he enters his house, he doesn't show it. He simply asks if she's had something to eat and when she says no, he dumps down the takeout he's brought with him and shares it out.

"I want to come back." Ziva says when the cartons of Chinese are almost empty.

Gibb's gaze flits to Ishmael, curled up asleep on the sofa.

"NCIS has a nursery, yes?" Ziva says. "I can leave Ishmael there when we are working. It will be good for him to be around other children. Or I can hire a nanny." She shifts trying not to appear too eager. "I know Liat has been recalled to Mossad. You need a fourth. I want to be an agent."

Gibbs takes a sip of his beer. "I don't even know if that's possible."

"I would need to apply for citizenship and it would need to be completed ahead of a formal appointment." Ziva tells him; she's done her research. "But my approved application with a supporting letter of recommendation from a supervisory agent would be sufficient to grant me a probationary position and a work visa."

Gibbs looks at her steadily for a long moment. "You'll need to talk to Vance."

She breathes out in relief.

"And the others." Gibbs throws at her as he gets up. "They don't want you; you don't come back."

Ziva's breath catches again. She knows he means Tony.

o-O-o

Ziva goes to Abby first. She knows getting Abby onside will help her with Gibbs. The lead agent of the MCRT indulges Abby more than anyone else in his life. Abby hugs her, squeals at the prospect of Ziva returning, and promptly starts to spoil Ishmael.

Ducky provides tea and Ziva wins him over with a tale of grief and needing a home and the team to provide her with stability. She makes small talk with Palmer as she leaves, enough to be confident that he won't say anything against her even though she believes Gibbs pays no attention to Palmer's opinion.

She takes McGee to lunch. It's a surprise to realise he has grown into a self-assured agent; he no longer has the shine of a naïve innocent. She wonders what has happened to him even as she uses the innate goodness McGee still carries to gain support for her return.

Vance listens to her sympathetically and tells her when Gibbs signs off, he'll sign off.

Which means…she needs to speak to Tony.

She corners him in the men's room.

Tony glances behind him as he zips up, curious no doubt that the door had opened and someone had entered without coming inside further. His eyes widen momentarily before a mask slides over his surprise.

"Ziva." Tony heads to the sinks. "You do remember this is the men's room, right?"

"I wish to speak to you privately." Ziva replies, walking over and leaning against the sink beside him.

"And it has to be the men's room?"

He looks at her in the mirror and for a second their eyes connect before she drops her gaze.

"It has to be said." Ziva says quietly. "You know why I am here."

Tony turns to look at her. "I have an idea."

"Then?" Ziva prompts impatient.

"Then, what?" Tony replies sardonically. He turns the taps off and reaches for a paper towel.

"I would like your…your _blessing_ to return." Ziva says tersely, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him.

Tony throws the balled up paper into the bin and turns back to her. "Answer me one question, Ziva?"

She nods.

"Why do you really want to come back?" Tony asks.

And for a moment she thinks he can see right through her.

She regroups quickly, straightening and pushing into his space until they are almost nose to nose. "My father is dead. My husband is dead. The only family I have left is here."

Tony searches her expression and she waits. Her heart pounds in her chest.

Suddenly his expression changes into one which says he's just made a vital connection, seen something in the evidence of a case. He grabs her shoulders and gives a wild grin. "The _only_ family!" He repeats. "You're a genius, Ziva!"

He dashes out before she can say another word. She follows him back to the bullpen where she hears his excited chatter as he fills in Gibbs and McGee on his epiphany about their latest case.

When Gibbs arrives home that night he hands her a letter approving her application.

o-O-o

It's been four months since her father died.

Ziva has slowly drawn Abby and Tim into her quest to seek out Bodnar. They spend hours reviewing evidence in a rundown bedsit Ziva has rented on the other side of town.

Gibbs knows.

She knows he knows.

Abby is incapable of not telling him and Tim has no poker face.

But Gibbs doesn't say anything, and Ziva says nothing to him.

She's kept Tony out of it, knowing he will not fall for the same pleas which convinced Abby and Tim. She ignores how Tony is beginning to look at her the same way he did when she was with Michael; suspicion and concern in every glance.

Maybe she should say something, Ziva considers as she climbs the stairs to her apartment. Especially now when they finally have a solid lead.

She opens her apartment door and freezes.

Tony is there, sitting on the sofa with Ishmael sprawled over him; there is a brightly coloured cartoon playing on the television. He raises a finger to his lips and unhurriedly stands, carrying Ishmael into the small room which Ziva has decorated with jungle animals.

Ziva closes the door, her mind whirling.

Tony comes back out and reaches for his discarded coat, tossed on a nearby chair.

"Tony…" Ziva begins, her unasked questions clamouring to be voiced; why was he there? How did he come to be there? Where was Ellen, the nanny she had hired?

"Ellen had a migraine." Tony explains briskly. "She used your phone tree but seems like everyone didn't pick up until she called Ducky. Of course, he's out of town at that conference he's been telling everyone about, but he assured her he'd send help. He called me; seems he thinks I refused to be part of the tree. He told me to man-up and help."

Ziva flushes with embarrassment. She hasn't asked Tony to be part of the tree even though everyone else is on the list. "I am sorry…" she begins.

"For what?" asks Tony bluntly. "You're entitled to have only the people you want looking after Ishmael, Ziva." He shrugs into his coat and straightens the collar. His eyes snag hers. "Just like you're entitled to have only the people you want helping you look for Bodnar which is why I'm guessing nobody else picked up tonight, well, except for Gibbs seeing as he's stuck in MTAC."

It's a direct hit.

Ziva flushes. She forgets sometimes that Tony is a good investigator; smart and intelligent. She lets herself believe too much in his dumb jock act at times. "Tony…"

"Ishmael's been out for a couple of hours." Tony says, speaking over her. "He kinda liked The Sword in the Stone but Robin Hood was a literal snooze-fest for him." He makes for the door and she shifts to block his way.

He pulls up and looks at her guardedly.

"Please." Ziva says. "I would like to explain."

"You don't owe me any explanation." Tony says evenly.

And he's right, she doesn't owe him anything. But she wants to explain and soothe the hurt she knows she's caused him by excluding him; by appearing to not trust him as much as their friends.

"You do not like children." Ziva says defensively.

"I don't." He agrees easily.

It infuriates her.

"You would have stopped me." Ziva says furiously, changing the subject to her search for vengeance.

Tony laughs, a short bark of sound that has Ziva flinching. "When have I ever been able to stop you, Ziva?"

"You think I am wrong to go after Bodnar." Ziva states.

Tony looks at her and says nothing.

"He killed my husband! My father!" Ziva says passionately. "Why should I not go after him?"

"You know it's not that I don't like children, it's usually that they don't like me." Tony begins, confusing her for a moment. He glances back towards Ishmael's bedroom. "He's a great kid."

Ziva stares at him wondering what he intends to say.

"He reminds me of me." Tony says, his gaze swinging back to her. "I know what it's like to lose both parents because one of them died."

She wants to hit him, attack him, but his words steal away her breath with their honest admission of the loneliness and neglect in his childhood and upbringing.

"Tony." She says moving to stop him from leaving again. "I am sorry if I hurt you in this. I do not…I value our friendship. I do not want this to harm that."

He nods and smiles tightly. "I'll always be your friend, Ziva." He leans forward and gently kisses her forehead. It feels like a goodbye. He steps around her finally, and opens the door. "You know Bodnar isn't in Europe, right?"

She whirls around but he's already gone and the door is closed.

o-O-o

Ziva stays awake that night.

She _knows_ Tony is wrong. Who better to track down Bodnar than she? They were both trained by her father. Bodnar is heading for his own stash of diamonds just as she had once headed for hers.

But.

But Tony is often right.

She drags herself into work, thankful Ellen has recovered and turned up to care for Ishmael.

Ziva sits at her desk rather than ask Gibbs if she can go to Europe and chase after Bodnar. She marvels at the tense silence that encompasses their team's space in the bullpen.

Gibbs is wearing his glasses and examining a paper file with a scowl. Tim is tapping away on his computer and occasionally shooting Tony worried and anxious looks – enough so that Ziva thinks Tony has probably told Tim he is aware of the subterfuge they have perpetrated. Tony is dressed impeccably in a three-piece navy suit with a crisp blue shirt and navy tie. His eyes haven't strayed from his own monitor where he is working industriously on requisition forms.

Just when Ziva can hardly bear the silence for another moment, her eyes catch on a visitor being escorted up the stairs: Orli. She watches as Ben-Gidon and Liat Tuvia follow as Orli's protective detail.

She surges up from her seat only to be stopped by Gibbs's hard glare as he walks past.

Tim sends her a questioning look.

"The new Director of Mossad." Ziva explains tersely.

A moment later, Tony's phone rings. He picks up and looks over at Ziva. "Understood, Boss." He drops the phone and gestures to Ziva and Tim. "We're wanted upstairs."

They make their way up to the Director's office. Ziva bristles with impatience.

The first thing Ziva notices as she hurries into the room is Orli sat having tea at the conference table as though she is at home.

"Why are you here?" demands Ziva, ignoring Vance and the others.

"Bodnar." Orli answers. "Officer Tuvia has been helping us track him here in the States."

"Why was I not informed?" Ziva asks furious.

Orli looks at her with compassionate pity. "I told you, Ziva, that we would be your hand in dealing with Bodnar." She stands. "We have a location. I am here to request ground support to bring him in."

"Bodnar's here?" Ziva asks, glancing toward Tony.

Liat steps forward and Ziva realises she is Tony's source. "Bodnar was in contact with a rogue agent; Montel. We were able to track him to a remote location just outside D.C."

There are surveillance pictures arraigned on the table; Bodnar outside a ramshackle property.

Ziva barely hears Vance agree to a joint operation. She is in touching distance of her revenge.

o-O-o

Later, Ziva will have little memory of the planning session; of the journey to the property.

There is a memory of Gibbs asking her if she can keep it together. A flash of Tony's face in the car on the way there; concerned and guarded; another of Tim confirming Bodnar is there as he watches the video from the surveillance camera that they snake up to a window.

Gibbs's shout echoes in her head. "NCIS! Come out with your hands up!"

Chaos erupts.

A cacophony of bullets.

The smell of gun-powder; hot ammunition.

And Bodnar escaping out of the back…

Ziva runs after him.

Her chest aches as she runs, careless of the branches that tug at her clothing and hair; of the uneven ground beneath her feet.

She traps him at the edge of a drop; if he takes another step there is nothing but the hard concrete of a road twenty feet below; spindly trees, sparse bushes and dry grass.

Ziva levels her gun. "Why, Ilan?" She demands. "Why? For money? Power? What?"

"Your father was dangerous, Ziva." Bodnar replies. "But I am deeply sorry your husband was caught in the fallout."

"You are not sorry," Ziva snarls, "but you will be!"

"Family is important, Ziva," Bodnar says, his hands raised to either side of his head, "you should take care with the family you have left. Ishmael is such a bright child, is he not?"

Ziva's heart leaps into her throat…

Bodnar goes for the knife strapped to his forearm…

She shoots and he topples over. She takes a quick look; Bodnar is sprawled on the tarmac below, lifeless.

And Gibbs is there suddenly beside her.

She barely takes note of the journey to her apartment, of Gibbs's manic driving, of Tim on his phone in the backseat talking to Tony, who has been left behind to clean up. She is only focused on getting to her son.

She doesn't pay attention as Gibbs follows her into her apartment building. They take the stairs, not waiting for the elevator. They run down the corridor and Ziva bursts through her door, gun levelled.

Ellen is confused and shocked as she watches them clear the apartment; as Ziva puts her gun down only to pick up a scared and crying Ishmael and hold him tightly to her.

Ziva turns with a relieved smile to Gibbs who smooths a hand over Ishmael's head and offers a crooked smile of his own. She unclips the badge she has worn and hands it to him.

Gibbs's head dips in disappointment as he takes it from her. But he reaches for her and pulls her and Ishmael into a tight embrace.

For a moment she allows the comfort; to lean on Gibbs. He lets her go and kisses her cheek as he had once kissed her in Israel; he walks away.

She smiles; bravado to cover up her tears but she is done.

o-O-o

The French sun is warm on her face.

Ziva lifts her chin, letting the sun seep beneath her skin. It's good to feel warm. She checks on Ishmael sitting quietly beside her on their balcony, colouring away into a book about dinosaurs. She shakes her head a touch, her hair flying free around her, and returns her attention to the letter she is reading.

Ducky writes about the team; humorous anecdotes she can almost hear in his definitive accent.

He writes about how Gibbs has returned from his secret mission which somehow required him to shoot Fornell. He writes about how the threat to the team has been neutralised with the elimination of Mendez.

When the news of a threat had surfaced, Ziva had ended up in Europe once again.

She'd returned to Israel in the immediate aftermath of her resignation but she had been relieved to leave; too many memories of Tali, Ari, her mother and father crowding in on her. It has felt right to hide away among the tourists in France; to allow herself to grieve for Alex, for their future.

She reads on.

Ducky writes about how Abby is jealous of Tim's new relationship with a woman called Delilah; of Palmer's plans to become a father; of Liat's return resuming her role as the fourth on the team.

There is a flicker of jealousy but in truth, Ziva had been relieved to give up her badge; she doesn't regret it.

Her son has become her focus once more and she regrets the months she has lost when she was focused on Bodnar. She resolves never to lose sight of what is truly important again. She doesn't think Bodnar meant anything in hindsight; he'd simply used Ishmael to try and distract her. But still…

She traces over the short few lines Ducky writes about Tony, because Tony will never return to the team. He'd been shot in his apartment before the threat to the team specifically had been fully realised. He'd sustained severe injuries to his right leg and shoulder; a head injury. With Gibbs out of the country, Vance and Fornell had ensured Tony had disappeared to keep him safe. But Tony has resurfaced and has sent Abby news that he is travelling while he determines his future, Ducky notes cheerfully.

Ziva sighs. Maybe there will always be a wistful hint of 'what if' that colours her memories and thoughts of Tony.

She folds the letter carefully and tucks it away into the back pages of her book. She won't reply; she never does. But Ducky writes to her every month regardless, sending the letters to Schmeil who forwards them.

Ziva's never believed in a happy ending.

She's lost too many people she's loved; seen too much death for that.

"Ima!" Ishmael draws her attention. He hands her a crayon with a wide happy smile.

She takes it from him with a soft smile of her own. She closes her eyes briefly, lifting her face back to the sun once more. She opens her eyes again and drinks in the sight of the Eiffel tower in front of her, reaching skyward ahead of her.

And maybe Ziva doesn't believe in a happy ending, but maybe she can believe in a new beginning.

She has always loved Paris.

The End.


End file.
